Mourning Heterosexuality
by Whiskey Meteor
Summary: Complete. Xander can't afford to go on his road trip alone, so he has to take someone along with him. XanderAndrew


Title: Mourning Heterosexuality

Author: Whiskey Meteor

Rating: PG-13

Summary: During their road-trip, Xander and Andrew go through the six stages of greif-- over the loss of their heterosexuality.

Disclaimer: Everything BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon.

Notes: AU after season three. Xander couldn't afford to do his road-trip by himself, so he had to take a passenger. I apologize for my gratuitous use of the word ass. And a big thanks to Karen for the beta!

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Stage one: Denial

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Xander sighed contentedly and thrummed his fingers against the steering wheel. It was summer. He'd survived high school, and the Mayor's attempt at ascension. And now he was free. A young man with no cares in the world save for the open road ahead of him. The radio was blaring the steady beat of a familiar tune. The window was down and the wind blew in hot gusts through Xander's hair. He was ready to drive down every unmarked, dusty, back road and explore everything that his country could offer up to him. It was just him and America.

"Xander, can we stop? I have to use the restroom again."

Scratch that. It was just him, America, and the passenger he'd been forced to take along to help cover costs. Xander sighed again, this time in irritation. "Andrew, we stopped ten minutes ago," he said. 

Andrew scrunched his eyes up, as if in pain, and wrung his hands. "Please?" he whined, "I *really* have to go."

Xander glanced over at Andrew and did some mental math. After deciding it wouldn't be possible to shove Andrew out the window and continue driving the car simultaneously, he gave in. "Fine," he said, "But no more Big-Gulps, okay? You have a bladder the size of a peanut." He shook his head. "Now I understand the appeal of droids."

Andrew cocked his head to the side, confused. "You didn't understand the appeal of droids before?"

Xander rolled his eyes, "*Another* appeal of droids," he amended. "They don't have to stop every twenty minutes to pee."

"Xander," Andrew admonished, "droids don't have to pee at... Oh." He crossed his arms primly over his chest and turned to stare out the window.

Glancing quickly at Andrew, Xander frowned. Despite his irritation, Xander felt bad. They'd only been on the road for a few days, but in that short time Andrew had developed the ability to both irritate Xander until he snapped, and then to make Xander feel guilty about it. "There should be another gas station coming up," Xander offered. "We'll have to stop for gas soon anyway..."

Andrew turned back to Xander and smiled broadly. "Thanks," Andrew said.

Xander caught a glimpse of Andrew's smile out of the corner of his eye, and his stomach did a little flip-flop. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel uneasily. Sending Xander's stomach into acrobatics seemed to be another one of Andrew's developing abilities.

****

Xander guided the car smoothly into the gas station and pulled up beside the pump. Andrew was out the door and running for the bathroom key before the car had even stopped completely. Xander hopped out of the car and began to fill the tank. He hummed quietly to himself, and stretched each of his legs, which were stiff from driving. When the tank was full, Xander leaned into the car to grab his wallet. As he was pulling back out of the window, Xander's gaze fell upon the side mirror and he froze. Framed in the center of the small mirror was Andrew, his head tilted slightly to one side, and his bottom lip half held between his teeth. His eyes were focused intently on Xander's behind. Xander extracted himself from the window, wallet in hand, and clearing his throat, turned to face Andrew. "...All done?" he prompted.

Andrew's eyes went wide, and he fidgeted for a moment before heading back to the car, all the while keeping his eyes glued to his feet. "All done," he squeaked, and climbed into the passenger seat.

Xander eyed Andrew suspiciously, and then turned and set off to pay for the gas. "I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder. 

Andrew buckled up and waited complacently, with his hands folded neatly in his lap. After a minute Xander returned to the car, tossing his wallet over his shoulder onto the back seat. He started up the car and pulled away, back out onto the road. They drove on in silence for a few minutes before Andrew grew uncomfortable. "So..." he said, mentally grasping for something to talk about. "Nice day, huh?" he prompted.

Xander shot a look at Andrew out of the corner of his eye, and then returned his full focus to the road. "Andrew," he asked, "Back at the gas station... were you staring at my ass?" 

"What?" Andrew gasped. "No! Of course I wasn't staring at your... ass." He folded his arms over his chest and eyed Xander suspiciously. "Look, Xander, I like you," he said. "I think you're funny, and smart, and sexy-,"

Xander narrowed his eyes at the road, "Sexy?"

"Savvy!" Andrew corrected, "Savvy.... like... sci-fi savvy... you know?" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But, anyway, I wasn't staring."

There was a pause, and then Xander said, "Oh."

"Oh?" Andrew asked. "You sound sort of... disappointed, Xander." Andrew smirked, "Did you want me to stare at your ass?" he asked condescendingly.

Xander scoffed. "No," he insisted hastily. "Why would I want you to stare at my ass? Very straight here. Like the bosoms."

"Right," Andrew chipped in earnestly. "Yay bosoms; boo shapely boy bottoms."

There was another pause, and then Xander turned to Andrew and smiled uncertainly. "You... think my bottom is shapely?" he asked.

Andrew blushed, but met Xander's gaze. "Well, it is," he insisted quietly. Abruptly, a car horn sounded, and Xander snapped his focus back to the road just in time to swerve back into his own lane. Andrew cleared his throat. "But I wasn't staring at it," he reiterated.

"Right," Xander agreed sincerely. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for a minute before glancing back at Andrew again. "Andrew," he asked abruptly, "Are you gay?"

"What?" Andrew choked, "No! Not gay!"

"Good... right...yeah..." Xander said, and chanced another sideways glance at Andrew. "Me neither," he added.

*****

Andrew popped the little dome top onto his Big-Gulp and slid in a long, pink straw. Then he turned around and froze. Xander was standing at the cash register with his back towards Andrew, paying for a bag of chips he'd picked out. Andrew cocked his head to the side and let his eyes roam distractedly up and down the other man's body: dark, unruly hair; that perfect ass; strong, broad shoulders; that perfect ass; wrinkled tee-shirt hugging the curve of his back; that perfect ass... Andrew's eyes gave up roaming and fixed on Xander's backside. He pinched the straw between his lips and took a long, noisy slurp.

Abruptly, Xander spun around and pointed an accusing finger at Andrew. "Andrew, seriously, that's enough!" he hissed.

"I wasn't," Andrew wheedled. Xander raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. Andrew rolled his eyes in defeat. "Okay, fine," he conceded quietly, "I was staring at your ass. But it's an admiration thing, I swear! I... I... just wish that my ass was more like yours."

Xander let his pointing arm fall to his side. "Um," he said, "I was talking about the Big-Gulp..." He rubbed his shoulder absently, "I heard you slurping..." Andrew shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Xander frowned. "You really wish your ass was like mine?"

Andrew cocked his head to the side. "Wha- oh, right. Yes. You have the perfect ass."

"I do?" Xander asked curiously.

"You do," Andrew nodded enthusiastically, "Like... like Michelangelo's David."

Xander chuckled despite himself, and waved a hand dismissively. "It's not that great," he insisted half-heartedly. "And besides, your ass is nothing to be ashamed of." Andrew raised his brow inquisitively, and Xander felt compelled to go on. "It's a great ass, Andrew, really," Xander assured him. "Perfect size and shape for-," he raised his hand and cupped and lightly squeezed the air in front of him. Andrew giggled, and then blanched, having caught the cashier smirking at them over Xander's shoulder. Xander followed Andrew's gaze to the staring clerk, and then looked back to Andrew. "Go ahead," he nodded to the car, "I'll pay for your drink- as long as you promise it'll be your last." Andrew nodded and set off for the car, leaving Xander and the cashier alone.

"That'll be one-fifty," the clerk said, maintaining his smirk.

Xander dug out a few coins and handed them over. "What?" Xander demanded, "I'm not gay."

The clerk rolled his eyes. "Sure," he said. "So you were assuring your boyfriend that his ass is grabable because you're straight?"

Xander scowled at his chips, which were still sitting on the counter. "Just because I'm attracted to another man, doesn't mean that I'm gay," he said.

The clerk narrowed his eyes for a moment in confusion. "Well, actually-,"

"Shut up," Xander cut in politely. He took his chips off the counter, offered the clerk a forced smile, and stalked out the door.

***************

Stage two: Fear

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**Previously in Sunnydale**

Xander looks down at the list in his hand before looking up at his last potential road trip buddy. Every name is crossed off, save for the last one. "I'm Xander Harris," he says.

The blond boy waves and nods. "Andrew Wells."

A memory surfaces in Xander's mind-- a young man in formal wear, torn to shreds-- and Xander frowns. "Any relation to Tucker Wells?" he asks.

Andrew fidgets. "My older brother." He looks up at Xander with eyes opened wide, imploring, "But I'm not evil, I swear. Neither is Tucker, really. He was super sorry about the whole prom thing." Andrew looks genuinely uncomfortable. "He's seeing a therapist," he adds hopefully. "He's like Vader... if he'd lived long enough to feel really bad for what he did, and go to a therapist to talk about it..." Andrew cocks his head to the side, slightly confused.

Xander smiles; he doesn't think Andrew could be evil if he tried. "Okay, not-so-evil brother aside," Xander says, "why do you want to join me on my little jaunt across this fine country of ours?"

"Are you kidding?" Andrew says with a shrug, his palms turned up to the sky. "Sunnydale is dangerous. Vampires? Zombies? Politicians turning into giant snakes?" He shivers and crosses his arms over his chest. "I'd be crazy to want to stay."

"Dangerous things happen outside of Sunnydale, too, Andrew," Xander says.

Andrew nods emphatically, as if he's known this for some time and Xander is just catching up. "I was there on graduation day, dude," he says. "*You* put 007 to shame." 

"I don't know," Xander says, flattered and blushing slightly. He smiles and shrugs, "Okay, maybe Connery," he concedes, "but I've got nothing on Dalton." 

Andrew smiles, blue eyes twinkling. He lays his hands flat on his knees, which are pressed neatly together. "I know that bad stuff happens outside of Sunnydale," Andrew says, "but I figure as long as you're around, I've got nothing to be afraid of."

*****

**Present**

Xander sat on the side of the bathtub, his face cradled in his hands. The porcelain felt cold and almost wet through the fabric of his jeans, and outside the sun had long since gone down. Andrew was in the main portion of the motel room, watching an old movie on the television. They'd rented a room in a cheap motel, just like every night before. There was the same off-white bathtub, same cracked tiles on damp bathroom walls, same dingy sheets on sagging twin beds, and what sounded like the same bad movie on the TV. Everything was the same. Except for one little thing: Xander was terrified and hiding in the bathroom. "How did this happen?" he asked himself. "All of a sudden I'm just... gay?" He raised his head and looked down at his shaking hands. "I don't know what to do," he said. "What if Andrew tries something?" Abruptly, Xander jumped to his feet, panicked. "Oh my god," he said, "what if *I* try something?" He sank back down onto the edge of the bathtub, hugged himself, and took a few deep, but shaky, breaths.

*****

Andrew switched off the television, plunging the room into a gloomy darkness. He turned and gazed at the bathroom door curiously. Xander had been in there for almost twenty minutes. Andrew sighed, got up, and walked over to the door. "Xander?" he called. "Are you okay?"

"Fine!" Xander called back. His voice was somewhat muffled by the door, but it sounded strained.

"Are you sure?" Andrew asked again.

"Yes, fine." Xander gave a forced laugh.

Andrew cocked his head to the side, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm gonna go to bed now..." he said. "Are you sure you're-,"

"Fine. Super," Xander cut in. "Sleep well!"

Narrowing his eyes, Andrew leaned in to rest his ear against the door. He could hear Xander muttering, but he couldn't make out the words. Andrew shrugged and pulled back from the door. It was late, and he was tired, and there was all of tomorrow to worry about what had Xander so spooked. Andrew stripped off his shirt and sat down on his bed. He kicked off his shoes and socks, and pulled off his trousers, leaving him clad in a ratty pair of vintage Tron boxers he'd got for Christmas years ago, but refused to part with. After loosely piling everything on the floor by the bed, he threw back the sheets, settled in, and quickly fell asleep.

*****  


There is an open window somewhere nearby and the wind puffs in, warm and somehow heavy, making the curtains billow like sails. The room is lit only by the pale light of the moon that creeps through the window on the wind, but Andrew can see everything that matters. Xander is lying, naked, on the floor and beneath him is spread a single white sheet that seems to glow despite the dark. Andrew, too, is unclothed, but he does not feel naked. He stands still in the milky moonlight, watching, waiting. 

Xander speaks, wordlessly, and Andrew finds himself crouching, kneeling, and then lying beside the other man. He lets his eyes rove over every curve and angle of Xander's smooth, tanned body, wanting to touch and taste everything that his eyes take in. He looks at Xander imploringly and Xander nods, answering the unspoken question. Andrew sighs, purely in expectation, and the sound echoes through the dark room around them. The wind gusts warm through the window, bringing with it the far off music of laughter, like children playing blissfully in the past. 

Andrew moves slowly, touching first with fingertips only, then the flat of his palm then with a wet tongue, tracing mindless shapes on firm muscle and soft flesh. Xander remains silent, but he shudders and arches under Andrew's ministrations which build in intensity and move ever downwards. The room expands around them, reaching into the darkness, and creatures of fear and doubt creep in on the wind to hide in shadows. They scuttle, scratching and hissing in the dark, and Andrew looks to Xander. "I'm afraid," he says.

Xander presses his hand to Andrew's, aligning fingers and palms. "Don't be afraid," he says. "You know they can't hurt you."

Andrew closes his eyes. The curtains puff with the wind, and the room returns to silence. When Andrew opens his eyes again, Xander is watching him, waiting. The wind blows suddenly strong through the window, catching in the sheet beneath them and making it ripple like boiling water. Andrew bends to Xander's body once again..

First, he tastes a nipple, licking and sucking insistently until the tender nub rises, firm between his lips. He nips gently at the curve of abdominal muscle, nuzzling heated flesh, grazing skin with blunt teeth and drawing a pleading whimper from Xander. He delves an insatiable tongue into the navel and Xander arches up beneath him, silently begging for more contact. The sheet ripples around them in the wind again as Andrew complies, straddling Xander and pressing their bodies together from thighs to lips. In a torrent of need and desire their hands grope and guide their bodies to slide together amidst a chorus of gasps and groans. 

Hips rock, lips collide, and the sounds of pleasure are caught up in the wind to blow around the dark of the room. Sweat slicks at every point their skin meets, and the slippery friction pulls them ever closer to--

*****

Andrew woke with a start, and sat straight up in his bed. He clutched the sheets to his chest, and took a few deep, shaky breaths."What the heck was that?" he muttered. Andrew looked around, taking stock of the room. It was dark, but his eyes soon became accustomed to the lack of light. It appeared that Xander had come out of the bathroom, gone to bed, and fallen asleep some time ago. Andrew relaxed his grip on his sheets and studied the sleeping form in the other bed. Xander had kicked the sheets down in his sleep, and they lay bunched around his ankles. In the dim light, Andrew watched Xander's eyes move beneath their lids, and his chest rise and fall with each breath he took. Curiously transfixed by the sleeping man, Andrew pushed his sheets down and turned in his bed, letting his legs dangle over the side. Xander's lips parted demurely and he murmured quietly in his sleep. Andrew slipped out of his bed and crept across to Xander's side. He bent over the sleeping man and strained his ears to decipher the sleep-mumbling.

"Mmm.... Andrew.... feels... ummm, good..." Xander licked his lips and shifted in his sleep.

Andrew frowned. "Did he just say-,"

Xander let out a low moan and mumbled, "Andrew..." again.

Springing back away from the bed, Andrew gasped. "Oh. My. God," he whispered, taking another few steps away from Xander, who let out a low moan again. Andrew slapped his hands over his ears. "Oh god, oh god, oh god...." he hissed. "Xander's... Xander's gay..." he stammered. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Don't stop!" Xander exclaimed abruptly, and shifted in his sleep again. Andrew took another panicked step back away from Xander's side. Xander grasped at his pillow, balling the soft fabric in his fists, and moaned appreciatively at whatever Andrew was doing to him in his dream.

Andrew slapped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tightly. "No, no, no," he muttered. "This is too much, I can't-," abruptly, Andrew opened his eyes and took his hands from his ears. "Wait," he said. "Why am I letting this scare me so much?" He stooped and picked his pillow up off of his bed. "I don't have to be afraid," Andrew said, walking back over to Xander's side, "because this is all... your... fault." He raised the pillow up in the air, and brought it down as hard as he could on Xander's head. 

The pillow broke open at the seam, sending a cloud of feathers fluttering into the air. "Ow..." Xander said blearily, holding a hand to his head. "Why did you have to do that?" he demanded. "I was-,"

"Having a sex dream about me?" Andrew cut in. Xander scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. Andrew folded his arms over his chest and glared.

***************

Stage Three: Anger

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"Okay, calm down," Xander said, "and stop glaring at me." Andrew narrowed his eyes and continued to frown. Xander swung his legs over the side of his bed, and stood up in front of Andrew. "I'm sorry," he offered, "but you can't really blame me. I can't control what I dream about, Andrew."

"Well you should," Andrew retorted. 

Xander let out an irritated sigh. "Why do you even care?" 

"Because..." Andrew glanced down at his feet. "Because I... sort of had a dream too."

"Really?" Xander asked, suddenly hopeful. "If we're having the same dream, it's got to be a magic thing, right? That bit with the oven mitts was kinda weird, huh?"

"Oven mitts?" Andrew asked, looking back up at Xander curiously.

"Yeah," Xander went on, "and the apron? With the ruffles and the..." Xander trailed off. "We didn't have the same dream, did we?" he asked. Andrew shook his head. Xander nodded. "So it wasn't a magic thing?" Andrew shook his head again. Xander threw his hands in the air dramatically. "Well then it's your fault," he grumbled. "You made me dream about you! With your sparkly blue eyes and your made-for-grabbing ass!"

Andrew scoffed. "It's not MY fault you want to grab my ass!"

"Yes it is," Xander retorted. He grasped Andrew by the shoulders, spun him around, and pointed down at his bottom. "It's all... curvy and perfect," Xander explained. "It practically screams 'grab me'!"

Andrew twisted around to face Xander again. "Well what about you?" he asked. "With your smoldering tall-dark-and-handsomness." Andrew motioned up and down Xander's body with an upturned palm. "You're like a young Han Solo. No wonder I dreamt about you!"

"You know why I think you dreamt about me?" Xander asked. "Because you've got Xander on the brain! You've been drooling over me ever since we met!"

"That's not my fault," Andrew insisted. "It's physically impossible to look at you without drooling!" He took a step closer to Xander and poked him sharply in the shoulder with his index finger. "If I've been drooling over you, it's YOUR fault!" Xander scoffed. "And besides," Andrew continued, "I'm not the only one that's been drooling, mister wants-to-grab-my-ass!"

"It's not just your ass!" Xander retorted. "It's that damn 'kiss me' pout you always pull!"

"I don't pout," Andrew said. He pouted, then realised what he was doing and stopped.

"See! It's your fault!" Xander exclaimed and pointed, his finger hovering in the air mere inches away from Andrew's lips. "If you didn't do that, I wouldn't want to kiss you all the time!"

Andrew's eyes traced up from Xander's extended finger to his eyes. "You want to kiss me all the time?" he asked softly. Xander lowered his hand from in front of Andrew's face and smiled shyly. He was about to speak when Andrew jumped in again. "Ah-hah!" Andrew shouted. "It IS your fault!" He took a step closer to Xander. "YOU want to kiss ME! YOU! So it's YOUR fault!" Andrew grinned triumphantly.

Xander frowned. "So... you don't want to kiss me?" he asked.

Andrew's grin dissolved, and he reached up and stroked Xander's arm affectionately. "Of course I want to kiss you," he cooed.

"Ah-hah!" Xander exclaimed, and stepped closer to Andrew again, until their noses were almost touching. "You want to kiss me!" he mocked.

"Do not!" Andrew retorted.

"Do to!" Xander shot back.

"Well you wanna kiss me too!" Andrew countered. "You said it yourself; you can barely resist my pout." Andrew shot his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

"Barely resist... Ha!" Xander said and placed his hands on his hips. "I changed my mind. Look how easily I resist!" He cocked his head to the side and looked up at the ceiling. "La la la, look at me resisting," he sang. 

"That's not fair," Andrew shot. "You're not even looking at me!" 

Xander sighed in irritation. "Fine! You want me to look at you?" He turned back to Andrew, placed a hand on either side of the young man's face, and leaned in so that the very tips of their noses met. "That better?" Xander asked. Andrew blinked, and then slowly lifted his hands to Xander's head, weaving his fingers into dark hair. They stood for a long moment, silently gazing at each other as if unsure of what to do, and then they both leaned in to close the small gap between them. Their lips met lightly, floating against each other like down on the wind, hesitant and fleeting, and then it was over. They both pulled back.

Andrew cleared his throat. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Xander asked. "*I* didn't do anything. *You* kissed *me*!"

"Did not!" Andrew retorted.

"Did so!" Xander shot back. "You started it!"

Andrew scowled. "If *I'd* started it, you would have known that *I* started it," he said, and stepped up in front of Xander again. Andrew reached up and twined his fingers into Xander's hair. "Like this!" He tugged hard, pulling Xander's mouth to his. Their lips met with force, crashing together like surf on sand, raw and needy, and in no time, lips parted to make way for hot tongues to slip against each other and eagerly map out the dark mysteries of tooth and gum. When they finally parted, it was only their lips that really did so, leaving both men panting with their hands still tangled in each other's hair, and their foreheads pressed together. Andrew swallowed. "...See?" he said, a little breathlessly.

"See what?" Xander asked.

Andrew sighed and pushed Xander back a little. "You would have known if *I'd* started the kiss."

"Like you started that one?" Xander smirked.

"Yes, like I- no!" Andrew smacked Xander's arm. "That was purely demonstration!" he insisted. "I was trying to prove my point!"

Xander rolled his eyes. "That is the biggest load of..." Unceremoniously, he grabbed Andrew by the shoulders and kissed him, deeply and almost forcefully, until Andrew pushed him away. 

"What are you doing?" Andrew demanded.

"Proving my point," Xander snarked.

Andrew scoffed. "What? You didn't even have a point! You just-," He broke off and shook his head. "You know what?" Andrew advanced on Xander and pushed him roughly back onto his bed. Before Xander could protest, Andrew had climbed nimbly atop him, straddled his hips, leaned down, and brought their lips together again. The kiss lasted only briefly before Xander pushed Andrew back.

"Stop doing that!" Xander demanded, and flipped over so that Andrew was on his back beneath him. He pinned Andrew down with heavy hands on his shoulders.

Andrew sighed miserably. "I'm sorry, I-," Xander cut him off with an abrupt kiss. Andrew gave a low moan as Xander deftly licked his lips part, but soon after pushed him back about half an arms length away. "Have you proved your point yet?" he asked bitterly, squirming out from underneath the other man.

Xander sat back, letting Andrew free. "I think I proved a point," he said slowly, "but I don't think it was the one I was trying for." Xander reached out and traced a line from Andrew's wrist to his shoulder, and as he withdrew his hand, Andrew caught it in his own. 

"Don't," Andrew said firmly.

Xander looked away forlornly, "Sorry."

"No," Andrew said, and pulled gently on Xander's wrist, drawing the young man towards him. "I meant don't stop."

****************

Stage Four: Bargaining

****************

They met again in a fierce kiss, a brutal exploration of the soft plump of lip and tongue, heated by need and desire. Blunt teeth bit gently, teasing and testing, and they moaned into each other's greedy mouths. Hands danced across each curve and flat plane of skin, delighting in the discovery of formerly forbidden flesh. Andrew gasped, and Xander sighed, and outside the sun crept up and peeked out over the horizon. Andrew let a wandering hand slip beneath the waistband of Xander's boxers, and, abruptly, Xander gasped and leapt back from the touch.

"Sorry," Andrew offered, "I guess I just got carried away."

Xander crawled off the bed, and began pacing back and forth. "It's okay," he said. "This is just going a little fast. I mean, we were friends, and now..."

"We're still friends," Andrew said, sitting up, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

"Wait," Xander cut in. "I just got an idea." Andrew frowned and cocked his head to the side. "Hear me out," Xander said. "We're *friends*." He waved a hand dismissively, "We're not gay, we're just friends."

Andrew wrinkled his nose confusedly. "Friends who kiss each other?" he asked.

Xander nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah," he said, "Friends who kiss each other once in a while."

"Can we kiss more than once in a while?" Andrew queried. "And could we maybe do more than just kiss each other?"

Xander plunked down on the bed beside Andrew. Andrew smiled and snaked an arm around Xander's back, letting his fingers trail down and stroke Xander's skin where it disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. "Sure," Xander said, "as long as we're still just friends." He leaned over and kissed a path along Andrew's jaw to his ear. "Normal heterosexual friends." He extended his tongue and lapped lightly at Andrew's earlobe before catching it between his teeth and tugging on it gently. Andrew shuddered pleasantly, and Xander released his ear and pulled back. 

Andrew frowned. "I'm having a little trouble with the concept of *us* being *heterosexual* friends."

"Okay," Xander said, his original enthusiasm undeterred. "Well, how about we try *not* being attracted to each other?"

"Maybe we could do some sort of spell?" Andrew suggested. 

Xander cocked his head to the side, listening carefully, and ran his hand up Andrew's thigh distractedly. "Yeah," he said, "that might work. Like an un-attraction spell."

Andrew frowned again. "That might be dangerous," he said.

"We could try distracting ourselves?" Xander suggested. Andrew nodded, leaned over, and pressed his lips into the space where Xander's neck met his shoulder. "We could go to a stip club," Xander continued, unfazed. "...Maybe pick up a couple of girls..." On the floor, Xander's feet found Andrew's and they tangled together. Xander tipped Andrew's head back and nuzzled his neck.

Andrew giggled gleefully, and then pushed Xander away. "Stop!" he commanded. "You're not even trying!"

Xander groaned. "I'm sorry," he offered. "I... I can't help myself. I just want to touch you."

After a moment's pause, Andrew shrugged. "Don't apologize," he said. "I want you to touch me too." 

Xander chuckled throatily. Then, abruptly, he threw his arms in the air. "Ooh!" he exclaimed. "I just got an idea." Andrew raised his brows and waited expectantly. "Well, if we can't help ourselves, then why don't we just give in?" Xander shrugged, and continued, "I mean, maybe we just need to get this out of our system?"

Andrew's face brightened. "Yes!" he said. "That's a brilliant idea!"

Xander smiled. "Yeah," he said, "I'm a smartie." Andrew quickly repositioned, climbing up onto Xander's lap, and pushed him back against the mattress. "The Xand-man's just chock full o' the brilliant-,"

Andrew ducked forward and cut Xander off with a quick kiss. "Shh," he said, "less talk. More kissing."

*****

The sheets, along with two pairs of boxers, lay in a haphazard pile on the floor by the foot of the bed. The two men lay, side by side, naked and sated, smiling contentedly, with their limbs tangled together lazily. Andrew squirmed a little closer to Xander. He nested his head on Xander's shoulder, and let one of his arms find its way up to rest on Xander's chest. 

Xander sighed contentedly. "That was..."

"Yeah." Andrew smiled. "It was."

They passed a few moments in silence again, until Xander cleared his throat. "So," he said, "is it out of your system now?"

Andrew relinquished his hold on the other man, and sat up beside him. He ran his fingers over Xander's chest, tracing invisible patterns, and frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said. And then, "No?" He sighed. "I think it's almost worse now." He flattened his palm on Xander's chest, and took a deep breath. "At least before I didn't really know what I was missing. I don't think I *can* get this out of my system."

Xander frowned. "What if we keep trying?" he suggested. "I mean, maybe in time," he reached out and stroked a hand up Andrew's naked thigh. "If we tried really hard?" Xander attempted a lecherous grin, but it came off more goofy than anything else. Meanwhile, his hand continued on it's journey.

Andrew giggled, but then abruptly batted Xander's hand away before it hit its mark. "Xander," he admonished, "I'm trying to be serious."

"I know," Xander offered sincerely. He gently pulled Andrew back down to the bed, and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

"We could try a spell if you want," Andrew offered, looking up at Xander with bright eyes. "It might work."

Xander ran a hand over Andrew's head, letting his fingers tangle through the short, blonde locks. "What's the point?" he said, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on Andrew's forehead. "It's hopeless. I'm pretty sure we're stuck with each other."

****************

Stage Five: Despair

****************

"So that's it then?" Andrew asked flatly. He squirmed out of Xander's arms and turned away, sitting with his legs swung over the side of the bed. "It's hopeless?"

"…Huh?" Xander asked, confused.

Andrew sniffled. "We're just stuck with each other?" Still facing away from Xander, he raised a hand and wiped his face.

"Andrew…" Xander sat up and moved closer to Andrew, placing his hand on the young man's back consolingly.

Andrew batted the hand away and jumped off the bed. He turned back to Xander, his eyes brimming with tears. "Is that what this is to you? Is that what *I* am to you?" He looked at Xander imploringly, and the tears broke loose and spilled out over his cheeks. "I'm just something awful that you're stuck with." He wiped his eyes again and sniffed. "Something between you and any hope you had of living a normal life."

"No, I-,"

Andrew cut back in, "Well if you want a normal life, I might as well just leave, then." He grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it hastily over his head. "Because if I stay it really is hopeless." 

Xander stared, slack-jawed and seemingly paralyzed, as Andrew wiped his eyes again, and hurried out the door.

****

Xander remained on the bed, slouched forward with his head in his hands for some time after Andrew had left. His first impulse had been to go after Andrew, to stop him from leaving. But… 

Maybe Andrew was right. ~I can never have a normal life with him,~ Xander thought to himself. ~Maybe it's best if I just let him go.~ Xander lay back and closed his eyes and thought of all the things that with Andrew he could never have: white picket fence, weekend barbecues with the gang, dinner parties with the neighbors… ~That is what I want, ~ he thought. ~Normalcy. I can picture it now…~ 

He imagined the backyard scene. White picket fence around green grass and a clear, blue sky overhead. Buffy, Willow, and Giles seated leisurely on red and white striped lawn chairs. Himself behind the barbecue, flipping burgers, telling jokes. Jack, the neighbor, leans over the fence, and talks quietly with Giles. And then Andrew comes out of the house with a tray full of glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. "Hi Andrew," Jack calls. "That Iced tea?" Buffy says, "Indeed it is. And it's the best iced tea this side of the Hell Mouth… er, L.A." And Jack smiles and says that when Xander and Andrew come over for dinner, they'll just have to bring some. And Andrew says sure, but Shelly'll have to make that bean casserole that Xander likes so-

Xander's opened his eyes and sat up abruptly. He looked down beside him where there was still a slight indent in the mattress where Andrew had lay. "This isn't standing between me and a normal life," Xander thought out loud. "This *is* a normal life." He sprang out of bed, pulled on his shirt, and dashed for the door, hoping desperately that Andrew would be waiting right outside.

He pulled open the door, and looked rapidly left and right. He saw nothing but the first signs of morning: the open sign flashing on in the diner across the road, birds singing and playing in the dust, a man in a white T-shirt walking slowly across the parking lot to his car. Andrew was nowhere in sight. "Andrew?" Xander called hopefully. The white T-shirt man looked up briefly and squinted at Xander before getting into his car and driving away. The dust settled back to the ground in his wake; and when he was gone, all was quiet. Xander retreated into the hotel room, a worried frown fixed on his face.

****

Andrew hunched down in his seat and poked at his breakfast. After storming out on Xander, he'd run across the road to the diner. There was a free table at the front near the window, from which he would have had a clear view of their room, but he took a booth at the back instead. Andrew looked down at his eggs and toast uninterestedly. He wasn't exactly sure what to do now. He couldn't seem to plan anything past eating breakfast. He kept asking himself what the point was, and he hadn't yet been able to answer the question. All he could think of was Xander. Xander's hands. Xander's lips. Xander's skin. Xander, Xander, Xander.

Andrew shook his head. What was the point? He was supposed to want girls. Pretty girls with pink lips and soft, blonde hair. He was supposed to want a normal life. But all he wanted was Xander. He heaved a sigh and a fat tear dropped from his eye and trailed down his cheek.

"You okay, honey?" Andrew wiped his eyes hastily and looked up at the waitress who had appeared by his table. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The waitress gave him a small smile and nodded down at his plate. "You want me to take that away?" Andrew nodded silently and turned away as more tears came to join the first. The waitress took the plate and left him alone.

****

Xander pushed the diner door open and stepped inside. It was busy for a road diner. Most of the tables were filled with tired and disheveled looking travelers. They looked happy, though, Xander thought. Like they knew where they were going.

A passing waitress stopped to stand by Xander. "You lost, honey?" she asked, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder.

Xander smiled. "No," he assured her, "but I'm looking for someone who is."

The waitress cocked her head to the side and closed her eyes thoughtfully for a moment before looking back up at Xander. "Blonde hair, blue eyes? Looks like someone broke his heart?" she asked.

"That's the one," Xander confirmed ruefully. The waitress winked conspiratorially, and gestured to a booth near the back of the diner. Xander nodded his thanks, and the waitress hurried off back to work.

He slowly made his way to the back of the diner, until he spied Andrew sitting in a booth, looking down at his lap and crying quietly. "Andrew?" Xander prompted. Andrew blinked and looked up questioningly. "Mind if I sit down?"

Andrew sighed and nodded, and Xander slipped into the booth beside him. Andrew sat stiffly, looking decidedly uncomfortable for a moment, but then Xander took his hand and he relaxed.

"Andrew?" Xander asked softly. "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it."

Andrew sniffled. "Yes you did."

Xander shrugged. "Okay, yeah, I meant it. But I wasn't thinking."

"That's the whole problem," Andrew said, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "We're not thinking. We just gave in to lust and now we'll never have what we really want."

"This is more than just lust, Andrew," Xander explained. "I've done some thinking, and I figured it out. This isn't hopeless. This isn't something keeping us from what we really want. *This* is what we really want." He frowned. "Well, it's what I really want, at least."

"It's what I really want too," Andrew admitted sadly.

Xander released Andrew's hand, and then put his arm around his shoulder, drawing the other man a little closer. "So why are you still crying?" he asked. "We've got what we really want."

"But what about living a normal life?" Andrew sniffled. "We'll never have that."

"This is a normal life." Xander squeezed Andrew lightly and grinned. "You find someone you like, and then you fall in love and get married." He shrugged. "And even if it isn't a normal life, who cares? We make each other happy, right?" He raised a hand and brushed away Andrew's tears. "We'd be stupid to want something else when we already have what makes us happy."

Andrew's lips spread into a broad smile. "You do make me happy." Andrew laughed quietly. "But we can't get married."

"Yeah, well," Xander said, "I didn't mean right now."

"No," Andrew clarified. "We can't because it's illegal."

"Oh," Xander said. "Well, I'm sure it's not illegal everywhere." He leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of Andrew's head. "Besides, I don't think that's something we should be worrying about." He smiled. "Not yet, at least."

Andrew looked up at Xander and offered him a lopsided smile. "So what should we be worrying about?"

Xander looked at Andrew and smiled. "Nothing," he said, and leaned in to press a sweet kiss onto Andrew's lips. "Nothing at all."

****************

Stage Six: Acceptance

****************

Xander tossed his bag into the back seat beside Andrew's, and pushed the door closed. "Andrew, did you return the room key?" he asked distractedly. When no response came, Xander swiveled around to find Andrew, head cocked to the side, with his eyes staring intently at ass-level. 

Caught, Andrew's head snapped up and he aimed his stare to the clear sky above. "Did you see that bird?" he asked. "I think it might have been a vulture..." He risked an experimental glance back down at Xander, and found him smiling knowingly.

"A vulture, huh?" Xander asked dryly. Andrew raised his brows and nodded hopefully. He reached out, and taking Andrew's hands in his, drew the other man closer. "Vultures only come around when something dies. And there's nothing dead here." Leaning back against the car, Xander pulled Andrew into his arms and smiled. "Unless, of course," he said, "you count our heterosexuality." Xander ducked forward and pressed a sweet kiss to Andrew's forehead. "You can stare at my ass if you want," he offered with a grin. "Just try to keep the drool to a minimum."

Andrew giggled. "If you're gonna allow staring, you'll have to allow the drooling too," he said. "I can't help it if your bottom is drool-worthy."

Xander chuckled and flicked Andrew's nose playfully with his index finger. "My ass is not drool-worthy," he teased.

"Hmm..." Andrew mused, letting his hands slide around Xander's waist and down to rest on his ass. He squeezed gently and then shook his head. "Sorry Xander," he said and then beamed. "Definitely drool-worthy."

Xander laughed and removed Andrew's hands from his bottom. "Come on," he said, nodding towards the car, "let's get going."

"So where are we going today?" Andrew asked brightly, as, heeding Xander's suggestion, he walked to the passenger side.

"Wherever the road takes us," Xander said, and climbed into the car. "Unless there's somewhere you'd like to go?" he added, as Andrew sat down, closed the door, and buckled up.

"Well, actually," Andrew said, "I do have one request."

Xander frowned. "Uh-huh?" 

"7-11?" Andrew said hopefully. 

"I was afraid you were gonna say that," Xander said ruefully.

"I have a wicked craving for a Big-gulp," Andrew explained.

Xander shook his head. "No way, Andrew," he said. "You know what happens when you drink one of those things." Andrew looked over at Xander and pouted silently. "No," Xander said firmly. "I don't want to stop every ten minutes so you can pee." Andrew continued to pout at Xander imploringly. Xander shook his head again. "Uh-uh, no way."

Andrew batted his eyelashes. "Pleeeaaase?" he begged, and then waited hopefully.

Xander chuckled. "You didn't really think that would work, did you?"

"No," Andrew rolled his eyes. Then, pouting, he crossed his arms over his chest and sank back in his seat. 

Xander glanced over at Andrew as he continued to sulk, and his lips curled slowly into a smile. He started the car, and then pulled out onto the road. They drove off in silence, a cloud of dust billowing up off of the pavement behind them and dancing in the air before settling back down onto the ground.

Xander stopped at the first 7-11 they came to. 

And at every public bathroom after it. 

The End.


End file.
